


Delighting in a Subby Dom

by SnakesandTea



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Accidents, Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Coming In Pants, Consensual, Consensual Kink, Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Desperate Crowley (Good Omens), Desperation, Dom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Dom/sub Play, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Omorashi, Orgasm, Pee, Piss, Piss kink, Rutting, Sub Crowley (Good Omens), Wet Clothing, Wetting, wee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:01:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27344728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnakesandTea/pseuds/SnakesandTea
Summary: Crowley runs a sex club. Aziraphale uses it to his advantage to put his demon in both the most Sub and most Dom role at the exact same time (via controlling his bladder).
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 50





	Delighting in a Subby Dom

**Author's Note:**

> This was based off a migraine-dream I had a few nights ago. (Also I wrote it fairly hastily!)

Aziraphale gave Crowley his rules. They were quite simple -- he wasn't permitted to piss without the angel’s approval. The demon was allowed to do anything else he wanted - aside from relieving himself and touching his cock. Aziraphale stood in the corner of Crowley’s ornate, yet minimalistic, office with his arms crossed. He even unfurled his wings and splayed them brilliantly behind him. To anyone else, he'd look like an impressive statue.

Crowley went about running his club as usual; for the most part, it was fine - boring, even. Until he started getting desperate for the loo. His lovely 'statue' kept having the bar send over drinks -- one water to every scotch. ("well, it was the healthy way to do it, wasn't it, dear boy?" Aziraphale cooed).

He sat at his desk in his suit and wiggled his hips, rocking them ever so slightly. Had anyone been paying the Angelic Statue any attention, they'd have noticed the flicker of a smile and perhaps a bit of a shoulder dance. Crowley kept casting 'death-glares' at his statue -- but, of course, Aziraphale could truly read the desperation and plea in his eyes.

He, for a moment, considered relenting and just letting his serpent go. The poor dear had started bouncing both legs already... but - a more sensible part of his mind interjected - he'd never learn if he didn't serve his punishment. This is what Crowley deserved for making him ejaculate in his best trousers at dinner the night prior. The angel nearly nodded to himself. A very subtle head shake told Crowley a rather firm 'no'.

The demon slipped a hand between his legs; then remembered the rules. He growled and slammed his palm on the desk just as someone knocked on his door. "fuck" Crowley under his breath. The bastard on the other side of the door knocked again. "fine. Enter!” Bullocks, he bloody well hoped it wouldn't take long. His cock ached; he knew he was losing the fight. Had someone not been coming into his office, he'd've been on the ground groveling to his Angel, begging and pleading as his hips writhed and jerked, desperately trying to not piss in his suit. But no, some bleedin idiot needed his attention.

One of the newest twinks came in, a dancer - possibly - his brain was a bit too clouded by his ridiculous corporation's need to urinate that he couldn't recall. "What?" he snarled.

The young man was clearly nervous. "Uhh.... S-sir?"

"Fuckin 'ell, ssssssspit it out! I 'aven't got all night!!!" Fuck, fuck, fuck!! He lost a precious dribble. Then another - more of a jet, really. He cast an angry glare at his crotch, knowing his glasses would mask just where his attention was. Wet. visibly fuckin wet. Right, then. He squared his shoulders and looked at the nervous twink. Well, he might not be the only one to piss on his floor tonight. "Jaxx, issssssss it?" The man nodded. "Right, well, what ssssseemsssss to be the problem?"

The low growl in his throat wasn't completely intentional. He crossed his legs. No! Not better! Definitely not better! Fuck, Fuck, Fuck! He uncrossed them, sneering at Jaxx as more urine made its way into his pants.

"uh, the m-main act -- erm, they cancled.... and um..... I... W-wasn't s-s-sure w-what to--"

He wanted to shout, ‘Not bloody involve me issss what to do! Handle it!!!’ Instead, he stoically regarded the scrawny dancer. "Ssssssssoundsssss like your time to sssssssshine, pretty boy." He hissed, leaning forward. His belt buckle pressed sharply on his bladder and he nearly jerked back. Crowley maintained his composure. He sat back slowly, white-knuckling the arms of his throne-like 'office chair'.

"B-b-but what do I do? O-on stage I mean?" Jaxx asked.

Aziraphale watched -- delighted and rather impressed. He had an absolutely perfect view of his demon's crotch. His demon's wet crotch, he amended. Oh, good lord.

The angel 'statue' was sporting a very prominent erection. He could be a perfect hat rack; but Crowley was far too distracted to notice the ever-more-stone-like his principality’s penis was becoming.

"You're a dancer, are you not?? Ssssso Danccce, then" The demon managed. He gripped the arms of his throne harder, the wood groaning dangerously.

"yes sir, sorry sir. I erm, I'm j-just... er, my d-dom, he-he's not here tonight a-a-and I d-d-don't know w-what to do erm, on stage, without direction... I... I mean it's y-your club..."

Crowley didn't hear much of his speech. His exhausted muscles shook. Oh Someone, oh fuck--- someone--- angel please! Ohshitohshitohshit.

He lost more drips and spurts; his ass was wet now. Fuck. He met the dancer's expectant eyes and swallowed the desperate, begging, whiny, subby lump in his throat. He spoke, his voice sounding just the right measure of sultry and commanding, "Jaxx, you've worked here three months? Yessss? I'll assssssign Brutusssss to you." The attention to his tone cost him. His muscles released on their own accord. Piss surged through his boxers, his pants, seeping down the expensive, shockingly nonabsorbent, fabric. "He'll take great care of you and inssssstruct you properly," Crowley continued his explanation calmly, evenly - despite the torrent of piss sputtering down his leg and loudly splattering on the floor. Fuck – oh, fuck, it felt glorious. He kept his face impassive, his arms grounding him to the chair-- glued and unmoving. "Tell Brutussssss I've sssssent you."

"y-yes sir, thank you sir, thank you. erm- are y--"

"That'll be all."

"What?"

"You may go. Now" He nodded to the door and turned his attention to his 'paperwork'. The moment Jaxx left his office, Crowley moaned softly. He forced another spurt out, then another, releasing every last drop in hissing squirts. The demon’s soaked trousers clung to his growing erection, beautifully framing his arousal for the audience of one. He canted his hips, allowing his stiff cock to grind against the wet warmth of his sullied clothes.

Aziraphale watched Crowley bare down on the armrests as the demon shamelessly thrust his length into the urine-soaked fabric. Good lord! His own cock leaked more precum. There was something fascinating about the decorum his demon maintained even whilst wetting himself. And, my word, that utterly intoxicating moan when he fully emptied his bladder – sensational! Ah, but it wasn’t the time for that, now. Steeling himself, Aziraphale remained at his post and clicked his tongue, disapprovingly. “Rutting in your own puddle? Oh, dear, you are a naughty serpent.”

Yes! Yes, he was a naughty serpent! An absolutely filthy deviant, he! Crowley furiously bucked his hips, unabashedly chasing his climax. He’d pissed himself while talking to his employee – in front of Aziraphale, no less. Oh, and the principality was still staring at him, carefully studying him as he got off in his mess. He relished the undivided attention of his divine entity! Ah, fuck, he was close. Crowley grunted, rutting desperately against his ruined clothes. He arched his back as he came. Creamy ejaculate seeped through his pants and thickly dripped onto his throne. Crowley’s chest rose and fell with choppy, satiated breaths as his slender fingers relaxed and dropped to his lap.

“Feeling better, my dear?” Aziraphale asked, finally crossing the room. “That incriminating stain on your trousers begs the affirmative.” Oh, his serpent had done so very well. He took both of Crowley’s hands in his own and pressed his lips to each knuckle. “And to think, this is only the beginning.” He gave the serpent a coy grin as he miracled him dry. 


End file.
